The Devil that You Know
by Alice Ariell
Summary: Takes place during Buffet Froid, after Will's initial CT scan. What if Hannibal hadn't murdered Dr. Sutcliff just yet, and his colleague decides to steal his friend's prized patient from underneath the good doctor's nose?
1. Chapter 1

The Devil that You Know

Will gazed solemnly into the mouth of the MRI. He felt unnaturally cold in his ill fitting hospital gown, especially under the gaze of his neurologist, Dr. Sutcliff, who was watching him expectantly. He placed the earplugs forcefully in and layed down, his body as vulnerable as a sacrificial lamb.

"This'll be over before you know it."

Sutcliff had called him at around nine o'clock that night, claiming that Will's symptoms were too concerning to wait until the morning for more tests. This surprised Will, given the doctor's previous declaration that there seemed to be nothing physically wrong with him. Still, he hoped that Sutcliff would find something treatable and end his suffering, so he drove back to Noble Hills Health Care Center to meet with the amenable doctor.

The unnerving banging began, seemingly in tune with his throbbing headache. He had taken two aspirin before walking into the Center, but they hadn't kicked in yet. Will thought of Alana, her easy smile and wry humor to try and make himself feel better, but he couldn't help imaging Garrett Jacob Hobbs cutting her throat…and then he _was _Hobbs, whispering in her ear that he would end it all and give her peace…

He woke as the MRI was shutting down, his body gliding slowly back out of the white vortex. Dr. Sutcliff was standing beside him, and when he tried to sit up, the doctor placed his hands gently on Will's shoulders, guiding him back down.

"Easy there, Will. The MRI took a much clearer image, and it looks like we're dealing with serious inflammation of the right hemisphere of your brain."

Will sucked in a gasp, his chest constricting in fear and relief…he _wasn't _crazy, he _knew _he wasn't mentally ill, despite Dr. Lecter's constant insinuations…

"So…what's next?" he asked expectantly.

"Well, I'm going to admit you and start you on some antiviral and steroid therapies."

Will shivered. "Do I have to stay here? I didn't leave food out for my dogs and they need-"

"I'm sorry, I know this is sudden, but you have a very serious condition that needs to be carefully monitored from now on."

Sutcliff led Will into a small room and began applying electrodes to his head and chest. The steady beat of Will's heart danced across the monitor. He carefully inserted an IV into Will's arm and watched as the sedative slowly but surely made the young man's eyes waver and then close. After watching Will's chest begin to steadily rise and fall and he was certain that he was sufficiently sedated, he restrained his wrists and ankles with thick leather straps. Then he turned off the lights and locked the door.

Sutcliff wandered into his office to study Will's MRI results and document his current symptoms when his phone rang. What he feared was already made manifest. It was Hannibal. Somehow his calculating colleague knew that his favorite patient was being stolen…

He cleared his throat and gave a seemingly pleasant greeting.

"I hate to call you at such a late our, but I was curious when you've scheduled Will's next round of tests. I would very much like to be present and I doubt Will would object. He trusts me with his health completely." There was an underlying threat in Hannibal's tone that only his oldest "friends" would be able to discern.

"Uh, well, I haven't scheduled Will for any specific date and time yet, but when I do I'll be sure to call you," Sutcliff stuttered nervously.

"See that you do."

With that, Hannibal hung up on the meddlesome neurologist and began planning the best way to dispose of him.

When Will didn't show up for his regularly scheduled therapy session the next day, nor show up for work or answer his phone, Hannibal knew exactly where his mongoose was. With disdain radiating from his cool visage, Dr. Lecter decided it was time to collect his prize.


	2. Chapter 2

_**I do not own Hannibal or any of the fascinating character's belonging to Thomas Harris and the amazing writing team of the show. Thanks for the creepy inspiration! **_

Will woke feeling groggy and unsettled. He tried to move his arm to reach for his glasses, but he felt as though his appendage was impossibly heavy. Had he slept on it? No. He looked down at his arms and saw the restraints. Suddenly he felt them digging into his wrists, as though he had been struggling against them all night.

Had Sutcliff been lying to him? Were his latest scans just as inconclusive? Did the doctor mean to trap him there and discuss his transfer to a psychiatric facility? He was sure that Dr. Lecter would disapprove, as he was always so determined to treat Will independently, and had never suggested the intervention of pharmacology.

"Doctor?" Will called in a small voice at first, but when no one came, his voice took on a firmer, more insistent tenor. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

A pretty young nurse entered the room to check his vitals, though she didn't react to his pleas for her to remove the restraints. "I'll tell the doctor you're awake," she said with a smile before shutting the door with an audible _click _of the lock.

Will felt trapped, immobilized mentally and physically in a very literal way. His head was burning with the same fever that had been hiding behind his eyes for months now. Still, it was one thing to be trapped inside your own head. At least he could hide there. Being bound to a bed against his will was a true invasion, especially since the invader had such intimate knowledge of his body. He felt every beep from the heart monitor was a betrayal. He didn't want his captor to know how he felt _inside_. He just wanted to curl up in front of his fireplace with Alana…

For what seemed like eternity, Will stared at the ceiling in silence until Sutcliff sauntered into the room. He immediately checked his eyes with a pen light, studied his vitals and felt his forehead.

"Your illness is progressing rapidly," Sutcliff muttered, almost to himself.

"Doctor, why am I restrained? I thought you were going to help me…I don't feel any better…" his voice trailed off, clouded by betrayal.

A smile dashed across the doctor's face, then vanished. "These are just are a precaution, nothing to worry about. You were sleepwalking and almost disconnected your IV, but the night nurse found you and brought you back to bed before you could hurt yourself."

Will swallowed hard, a small part of him believing the lie. "Oh…I see…well, now that I'm awake, I surely don't need them," he managed to say through gritted teeth.

Dr. Sutcliff sighed and pursed his lips. "It's important that you stay in bed and don't disturb your IVs and monitoring equipment. I understand you feel uncomfortable, but with symptoms like hallucinations, sleepwalking and now that you're developing a fever, I can't, in good conscience, remove the wrist guards just yet. Speaking of your symptoms, have you experienced any auditory or visual hallucinations since your temperature spiked last night?"

Will involuntarily answered _no_ with an almost undetectable shake of his head. _I was dreaming,.._he thought to himself.

"How about your headaches? If you could rate them on a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you experiencing?"

He wanted to answer _Infinite amounts, _but that would just sound crazy, so he said, "Nine," in a low, cracked voice.

Sutcliff nodded. "Alright, I'm going to order an EEG to check for signs of hyperactivity. I want to avoid the onset of seizures if we can."

Will smothered a terrified laugh that was bubbling at the back of his throat. "I appreciate your…_concern_, but I feel like a prisoner and I'd very much like to make a few phone calls. I need use of my hands to do that." Dr. Sutcliff had begun fiddling with Will's IV as he spoke, increasing his dose of sedative. Before Will lost consciousness again, he asked, "You're not even _treating _me? Why are you doing this?" Sutcliff swallowed hard and thought of dissecting his brain.

When he entered his dark office he had a visitor waiting for him. Hannibal turned slowly and greeted his colleague with a blank stare.

Sutcliff's face twitched at the sight of him and he blurted out, "Don't worry, your prize pig is safe, sound and symptomatic," he added with a bemused grin. "I haven't begun treating the encephalitis, if that's what you're thinking. I've been monitoring him closely and keeping him sedated." Hannibal remained still as stone. "He called me late last night demanding more tests, so I…he has a _fever_, Hannibal, he's sick, experiencing psychotic hallucinations…I had to at least keep him secure if we're planning to study him properly. I need medical documentation and insight into his condition…I thought you'd be pleased we have him in a controlled environment…" he averts his gaze from his formidable colleague, fearful that he has overstepped his bounds.

"I _have_ been eager to treat Will in isolation, yes. I think he needs an unorthodox form of therapy that will take time for him to process and accept. What I don't agree with are your methods. Will trusts me with his mental wellbeing…he won't accept that I am a party to his captivity."

A grin breaks across Sutcliff's face once more. "I restrained him, saying that I had acted in response to his sleepwalking as a precaution, though he didn't believe me. If you release him from the restraints but enforce the necessity for his cooperation with treatment, we might be able to convince him to willingly submit to study."

Hannibal allowed his eyes to narrow as he returned a coy smile. "You have experience with this type of manipulation, don't you, Dr. Sutcliff?" he asked rhetorically.

"Shall we check on our patient?"

Lecter held in the urge to simply snap the impudent man's neck. There was only room for one doctor in Will's life if Hannibal's masterpiece was to be perfected. "Show me."

_**Thanks for reading! Reviews are Always welcome.**_


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